"The Great Hollywood Invasion" - Part Three

 

Part Three

            Tiffany felt Scoop clinging to her hip as they stared at the alien that had been the source of much mystery in the town of Rachel. Poor thing, she thought of the little boy, who had already gone through enough with his missing grandparents, who she hoped may have been elsewhere aboard the spaceship.

            “Audition?” Starla repeated one of the alien’s first words to them. She was amazed by how fluent it was in English. “Is that why you kidnapped Bobby?”

            The alien enthusiastically nodded. “Uh-huh. For the feedback.”

            He then reached into his left pants pocket and retrieved a small device—shaped like a garage door opener. With the press of a button, the lights in the room dimmed, except for one above the alien that served as a spotlight, illuminating only him.

            “Good evening, captivated guests,” he greeted with the energy of a showman. “My name is Archiltaba Squeeknoob III! But you can call me ‘Archie’ for short.” He went on with his audition after the introduction, mostly impersonating classic movie stars like Groucho Marx and Humphrey Bogart. He also did magic tricks, acrobatic tricks, singing, dancing, and reciting the alphabet of his race—the Zorns—all within the span of thirty minutes.

            Tiffany and Starla were flabbergasted.

            Bobby wept in suffering, “No more! Please stop!”

            Scoop, however, didn’t seem to be scared anymore, applauding Archie’s performance.      The little boy’s reception touched the showbiz-obsessed alien. “Aww, thanks,” he bowed respectfully. “Ya know, that’s the first applause I’ve ever been given.”

            “Ever?” Tiffany echoed the emphasized word, curiously.

            “Before then, I presumed I’d moved this guy to tears,” Archie gestured to the weeping Bobby. “I had no idea they were tears of agony!”

            While Tiffany worked on setting Bobby free, Starla asked Archie, “Dude, why are you auditioning for a bunch of random earthlings? Shouldn’t you be doing this to some bigwig executives or something?”

            Archie shrugged sheepishly. “That’s how I figured Earth people made their break in Hollywood.”

            This surprised Tiffany, who had reached the final restraint on Bobby’s legs. The young man’s alien abduction was not for the nefarious purpose that she figured it to be. “You’ve gone ‘bout it all the wrong way, luv,” she told Archie. “Ya have to go to the source, like Starla said—ya hafta go to Hollywood.”

            Archie scratched his chin. “I thought I had come to Hollywood.” He went to the nearest wall, which pulsated with otherworldly energy that powered his ship. With the same device he had used on the lights, he switched on an oval-shaped, inorganically embedded monitor. A live feed of the Nevada desert was displayed. “Isn’t Hollywood mostly deserts?”

            Tiffany giggled. “Nah, mate. Yer several miles off course.”

            “Gah!” Archie griped. “Curse the Zorn school system and their lack of education on Earth’s geography!”

            Tiffany regarded the name of his species.

            The Zorn. I think I’ve met one of them in another realm once. Very peculiar race with an even more peculiar admiration for Earth culture. Not dangerous at all…just very overeager…and a bit dense…such being the case with Mr. Squeeknoob III.

            “Tell ya what, luv. Let Bobby go back to Earth, and we’ll help you find someone in Hollywood willin’ to give ya yer break.”

            Hearing Tiffany’s offer, Starla urgently pulled her aside and whispered, “How the heck you intend on doing that?!”

            Tiffany smirked. “I have a few ideas.”

            She then felt something tug at her skirt and looked down to see Scoop with pleading eyes that melted her hearts. “What ‘bout Paw-Paw an’ Granny?”

            “Oh, right!” Tiff mentally slapped herself for forgetting. She relayed the inquiry over to Archie, “Aside from young Bobby, did you bring anyone else aboard yer ship? Maybe a couple of earthlings that are the same color as me and this sweet lil’ boy—only much older?”

            Archie shook his head. “I only swooped up the one crying earthling.”

            Tiffany and Starla both looked down at Scoop, seeing the worry and discouragement in his face. It was enough to tear their hearts to shreds. “Oh, honey,” Starla pitied him, overwhelmed with the urge to hug him again.

            “We will find them, Scoop,” Tiffany kept to her vow.

— — — — — — — —

            Betty lost count of how many restless nights it had been since Bobby went missing. It was an hour past midnight, and all she was doing was what she had been doing the past nights: longingly staring at a framed photograph of her and Bobby together. It was taken shortly after he got hired to work at Pat’s shop. Bobby was over the moon about having his first job, planning their whole future with the money he would earn—a future with a beautiful home, eight beautiful kids, and a beautiful kitchen.

            That future seemed more distant than ever now.

            Betty was beginning to accept that the love of her life was dead when she heard a knock at the front door of her parents’ home. It stirred her mother awake; her father slept like a log. “Now who on earth could that be this time of night?” her mother asked, standing out in the hall in her nightie with the curls still in her silvery hair.

            “Go back to sleep, Mom,” Betty told her. “I’ll see who it is.”

            She cleansed her tear-drenched face on the way downstairs, not wanting whoever it was to see that she had been crying. It was the whole reason she refused to wear makeup at the time—the ruined mascara would make her look like a hobo clown.

            Opening the door, she received quite the surprise.

            “BOBBY!!!” He joyfully cried out, completely forgetting about her parents sleeping upstairs.

            Sure enough, Bobby Wright was standing there at her doorstep, along with another person—the girl who was in the diner that morning…the girl in the polka dot dress. Betty was more focused on Bobby than on the girl. She showered the love of her life with hugs and kisses all over his haggard face. It was a happy reunion—something straight out of a romance film. She imagined how much she and Bobby resembled Donna Reed and Jimmy Stewart in that tender moment.

            “What happened to you?!” she asked once she was finished hugging and kissing him.

            “Baby, you don’t even wanna know,” Bobby wearily answered.

            Accepting his answer, Betty finally acknowledged the polka-dotted girl’s presence. The girl kept herself at the doorstep, refusing to step inside for some odd reason. Betty hardly even noticed the disdain on her face as she graciously told her, “Thank you so much for finding my Bobby!”

            “It’s the least I could do after you tried to rat my friend and me out to the police,” the girl coldly responded.

            Bobby scowled at the girl, whose name he learned to be ‘Starla’. “What’re you talking about?”

            Betty couldn’t hide her shame. “I was scared for Bobby,” she admitted. “To be fair, you two did appear very suspicious—especially that colored friend of yours.” Her shame rapidly dissipated into condescension as she continued, “A reporter who’s a woman and a negro?” She scoffed at the notion. “Unbelievable.”

            Starla could no longer restrain her anger. “If it wasn’t for that ‘negro,’ your Bobby would still be sitting aboard a UFO, ready to be probed!”

            Betty frowned in disgust. “What?!”

            “Don’t listen to her, sweetheart,” Bobby diverted. He then glared at Starla and demanded with a stern voice, “Get outta here, girl. And don’t even think about telling a soul about what happened to me.”

            Starla scoffed. “No worries. No one would believe it. Right, Betty?”

            She gave Betty a sour look that made Betty turn away almost immediately. She then left in a huff, grateful that she helped reunite the two lovers…but sickened by the aftermath.